


Spite: Convergence

by MarrowMeister



Series: Codependence [9]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Original Work, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Venom (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types, symbiote - Fandom
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon LGBTQ Character, Crossover, Established Relationship, Humor, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Marvel Universe, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Relationship(s), Sexual Content, Violence, X-Men References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:56:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28538454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarrowMeister/pseuds/MarrowMeister
Summary: The next entry in the Convergence series starts here!Max and Spite have been living together for a few years by now, this picks up after the first Spite story in this series. This story takes place just under half a day or so after the ending of Savage: ConvergenceIt features a small sex-aligned scene early on but it is not too explicit.This is part of a continuing narrative.I hope you enjoy!
Relationships: Original Male Character(s) & Original Symbiote Character(s) (Marvel)
Series: Codependence [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694629
Kudos: 3





	Spite: Convergence

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the entire story in order, however required reading to understand fully are as follows.  
> Max\Spite Flash Forward  
> Savage: Origin  
> Seethe: Origins [!]  
> Savage: Convergence

There is a very specific sensation behind one’s eyes when waking up and Max felt it in full force; that tingle that could almost be described as a burning. He pried his eyelids open and gripped the sheets of his bed tightly. The polyester material was great for colder days, the fabric essentially able to retain heat more than cotton for example. Max brought his legs closer to his chest beneath the candy cane print covered white sheets into what was essentially a fetal position. He always enjoyed the sensation of skin on skin, even if it was his own. He felt the intense urge to close his eyes once more and just return to the dreamworld he had been clinging to for so many hours but knew he needed to arise sooner rather than later. His entire body felt dry, like his skin had been sandblasted and every square inch was chapped; the discomfort bordered on pain but never quite crossed the line. He didn’t need to even think about why he felt the way he did; the biological hangover one of the few negative trade-offs for his relationship with his husband. The two had come to an agreement to unbond from eachother at least once every two or three days in order to prevent possible irreversible changes such as biological co-dependence and to avoid the unlikely situation of developing an unhealthy psychological relationship that could possibly undermine their marriage. Max rolled over in the sheets, the rather small movement still enough to feel as if he was rolling across a gravel road. They had been bonded for only four days this time, but after two the effects started to pile up occasionally causing one or the other to even pass out.  
_Lets try not to push it next time._ Max thought loudly before recalling that his partner couldn’t hear him once they had separated. Max groaned loudly and threw the top layer of his bedding aside, the immediate absence of the comforter and sheets creating a vacuum that sucked in the room’s cold air. Max groaned once more at the discomfort as just the airflow from the ceiling fan above him was enough to grate the sensitive skin. Max laid in the bed, completely naked and exposed to the world. Most days he would wake up with morning wood and just go straight for it; he had always reveled in his active sex drive and considered it a great way to start the morning, waking him up easily and leaving a smile on his face along with pushing his heart rate high enough to make tiredness nothing but a memory. Mornings like this were different though, a full body hangover more than enough to put him out of commission.

Max threw his left hand out to his nightstand, blindly searching for the two most important things in his immediate vicinity. The first of two he found almost within seconds, as if it wanted to be found. He planted his palm down on to a small circular ring no larger than 2 or 3 centimeters in circumference maximum. The object flattened like a gummy bear that had just been run over by a car before immediately slithering around his palm and right to his ring finger. It coiled just tightly enough to begin cutting off the blood flow before relaxing into the inconspicuous standard shape of a normal ring. Max brought his hand back to his body, clutching both together against his chest as the uncomfortable sensitivity of his skin died down to a much more manageable degree. Max loved the relief of sensation but his brain couldn’t help but silently compare the situation to a drug and an addict. He pushed the thoughts away as he twisted the peculiarly textured ring in place, already feeling the love build in his chest. Max ran his hands up and down his shins, massaging the skin passively as he tried to talk himself into at the very least getting out of bed. He knew that although he had nowhere to be, the cure for his current ailment sat just one room over likely inside of the coffee pot or even on the couch. Max groaned before finally forcing his eyes all the way open, forcibly ignoring the tired burning sensation urging them to shut once more.

The room was not particularly bright, all of the lights having been turned off the previous night; however the slightest glow of daylight from behind the white horizontal slatted blinds in front of the only window in the room was more than enough to kick his withdrawal induced headache up another level. His closet door sat open as he usually kept it, not needing regular clothes all that frequently. He rubbed his temples with enough force to turn his fingertips white from the pressure. It was a pointless endeavor and he knew it; the negative sickness aligned sensations prodding every inch of his body both internal and external could only be negated by a connection with the very thing that caused them. Max sucked his teeth audibly and inhaled until his lungs were full. He held his breath just long enough to be considered a conscious effort before exhaling with force, finally rolling over to the edge of the bed and swinging his legs over in one fluid motion. A microsecond of vertigo followed him, reminiscent of the vision distortion he had noticed alcohol could cause, and burped quietly from the threatening tease of nausea. Max turned his head back, resisting every urge he had of pulling the comforter over his shoulder and returning to the deep and forgiving abyss of sleep he craved so much. He turned his head towards the nightstand his ring had been sitting on, reaching out towards his phone; he knew he would have to take his incredibly debilitating journey to the living room a dozen or two meters away in pieces and the oh so important news and social media stimulation his phone provided would be a necessary aid to that experience. Max’s eyes focused on the nightstand and his brain registered the incredibly unfortunate truth that the lithium ion battery and source of life powering one of his only electronic connections to the entirety of the human race had simply not been plugged in the previous night. He groaned almost inaudibly and reached for it anyways in hopes that there may be at least some charge left on it. The black glass rectangle fit nicely in his palm and the reflection of his sickened and weak face stared back as he pressed the power button more than long enough to have determined the technology was now just a very expensive piece of nothing. He leaned over, closer to the nightstand, and carefully plugged the charging wire into the bottom of the phone; it stayed silent, apparently dead enough to require at least a few minutes before even so much as turning on.

Max contemplated simply staying here, crawling back into the bed that tempted him so, for no other reason than to sleep until he could no longer. He shooed the ideas away, completely frustrated with his body’s defeated response to the aches of his bones and tingling of his skin. Max knew he had spent too long wasting time, it had been at least half of an hour and he had not even so much as gotten fully out of bed; enough wasting time. Max forced himself to stand, ignoring the anxious build of vertigo and cold discomfort of a room he knew was by no means freezing. He twisted the ring on his finger passively, feeling the build of excitement from the very thought of being close to his partner again. He looked quickly to the open closet and back down at the birthday suit he had been wearing so confidently. The tiniest smirk built at the corner of his mouth; Max knew that there wasn’t a single outfit in his closet that could compete with the one he had one room over. Max shuffled his feet against the carpeted floor, hugging his arms against his exposed waist. He quickly pushed the hallway door opened and immediately felt the tiniest *pulse* in his chest and in his dick, a conditioning he had grown accustomed to but almost never shied away from. His wring seemingly tightened as he moved down the short hallway, passing by the open door to his makeshift art studio and office; Although Max was still in school for art, he was more than skilled enough to make a living through a combination of commissioned work… and the occasional donation from his loving parents just outside Berlin. His headache from earlier dulled to a low roar but remained just present enough to force a hard blink. Max forced every borderline debilitating sensation across his body into as manageable of a nuisance he could before rushing forward and sliding across the floor with faux confidence. He placed his hands on his hips, puffed his chest out, and lifted his chin with pride.

Max held the pose as he scanned the room quickly, passing over the back of the couch that he couldn’t quite see the cushions of and into the kitchenette in the corner. Max inhaled deeply and with an incredibly fake and almost laughably bad exaggerative tone announced-  
”It is I! Maximus the great! I am here to fight for Truth! Justice! and-” he exhaled, returning to a normal tone of voice.  
”Yeah, just truth and justice is fine.” he mumbled.

There was a momentary silence before a somewhat scratchy and comparatively higher pitched voice returned in what could only be described as a purposefully inaccurate British accent being screamed as loud as a child could muster.  
”I LOVE YOU MAXIMUS THE GREAT!” the voice threw out with noticeable effort, somewhere from the kitchenette.

Max smiled with glee and flicked a wrist towards the source of the sound, a classic yet cheap glass coffee pot filled with a peculiar substance. Max extended the finger aggressively at the end of his hand and pointed with fervor.  
”AND I LOVE YOU RANDOM COFFEE COVERED CITIZEN!” He felt himself begin to break character into an uncontrollable laugh.

The two voices cackled wildly as Max stumbled his way past the couch, partially resting his hand on it for support. He approached the coffee pot, noticing the slightly muted scent of boiled water mixed with ground beans. It tickled his nostrils but it was by no means what he was interested in at the moment. The glass coffee pot audibly vibrated as Max reached down towards it. He grasped the plastic handle with a firm grip and lifted, the entire container was significantly heavier than it would have appeared. Its translucent walls revealing the slithering contents within. He held the coffee pot prison up to eye level and peered inside; The material inside appeared to be covered in a micro layer of moisture, no different than the glisten a snake would proudly display just after a fresh shedding. The porcelain white creature shifted in visible excitement, deep cherry red streaks shifting asymmetrically across the entirety of its surface area. Max couldn’t help but feel a tug in his chest as several streams of red coalesced against just in front of his eyes and formed two oval like shapes with winged corners that partially bled into eachother. The solid lenses periodically shifted into less defined ovals and more into dozens of tiny circles of varying sizes that were just as easily recognizable as eyes. The peculiar white flesh began to part just beneath the eye like apparitions into what was unmistakably a mouth of some sort. The above and below edges of the ‘lips’ visibly shifted both in texture and color, becoming an ever so slightly different white that Max’s brain knew was comparable to bone.

“You’re blushing Maxiiii” the scratchy voice teased; its sound having been funneled upward and out of the open lid just inches above the creature’s head.

The shapeless oddity’s head began to move upward, pushing its way over the edge of the lid and just beginning to worm its way towards Max’s hand. Max could _feel_ his face grow brighter in color as the alien lovingly mocked him. Max sensed almost every muscle in his body release a tension he wasn’t fully aware he had been holding; The sleek sentient goo slithered the rest of its body out of the glass it had spent the previous night in and coiled its way around Max; first his wrist, then his forearm, and finally once around his torso just below the armpit before finally resting its head on Max’s shoulder. Max exhaled a shaky breath as he placed the pot back where it had been. Every inch of skin that had been touched practically buzzed with warmth, the aches, pains, and unfortunate skin discomfort melted away every second they held on to one another. Max leaned his head to one side, nuzzling against the slickly textured skin of his husband’s head with a coo. Max began to return from where he had come from just minutes earlier, Spite wiggled with excitement as they both knew one of their favorite things to do together was just a minute or so away. He placed his finger against the partially open door in the hallway just opposite of the entrance to his office studio and stepped inside while flicking the lightswitch in one swift motion. The bathroom itself was not particularly exciting in any way; the pale grey walls held no blemishes, the combination bathtub and shower just in front of the sink and mirror, the clean porcelain toilet with a seat placed in the ‘down’ position and a few unused rolls of toilet paper sitting untouched just on top of the reservoir. Max closed the door, pushing it behind him until it clicked audibly revealing the full body mirror that had been pinned to the rear of the door. He stood on top of the bathmat that had been centered in the small restroom, the incredibly soft texture of the absorbent red material being the only barrier separating him from the cold floor tile below.

Max stared into the mirror, looking himself up and down; he was not a vain person, or at least never considered himself to be one but had developed a habit that both he and Spite had silently agreed upon. The two may have been completely separate entities, both with their own personalities, likes, dislikes, fears, and much more, but they were almost completely on the same page when it came to satisfying more physical desires. Max swayed a hip to one side and placed a hand on the opposing hip. At first glance he appeared no different than any other regular human being; his short and messy yet almost spiky light brown hair could almost be mistaken for a dirty blond in the right lighting, his pale white skin that was almost completely devoid of any real changes in texture or color, the muscle tone that just barely threatened to show through his slightly below average weight, all features that would not have stood out in any real offensive or peculiar manner. Max felt Spite slither around his chest once more with motion that could almost be considered anxiety if it were not so obviously excitement. Max glanced deeper into the mirror, smiling widely and awkwardly in an effort to reveal his teeth while focusing on his own face for just a few moments; his large round nose and jade green eyes being two facial features he couldn’t help but feel attached to in some bizarre way, the smallest part of his brain vibrated with a borderline irrational need to remind himself that he was in fact still human. He turned his head to the side, once more reassuring himself of his normal eyes, normal teeth, normal skin, and oh so human normality. Spite remained silent, which would normally be considered uncharacteristic for the little bugger but after so many years together and the occasional verbal dispute they had come to understand one another more closely.

In as clear words as Max could manage he had once explained to Spite that he was terrified of forming a true codependence to him, terrified that bonding to him once and truly forever would close a door that could never be opened again. Truly terrified to his core that if the two became inseparable they would lose who they really were as they would slowly bleed into eachother on a physical and emotional level. Max had firmly laid down that they HAD to separate at least once every two days, any longer and Spite’s biology would begin to establish a firmer hold on Max’s own. An unintentional process that neither could stop; Spite had understood, understood that in order for them to remain together they would have to remain apart… Both had entered the world of dreams that night after hours of silent weeping.

“So, are we going to do it or are you going to keep admiring yourself in the damn mirror?-” Spite piped up with his oh so identifiable charm. Spite looked Max up and down, awaiting his permission to become one with his husband and lover.  
”-Because I could admire this all dayyy” he cooed, staring into the reflective surface right at Max’s crotch as he slowly wiggled the tail of his temporarily snake like body down the natural ‘V’ like contour of Max’s pelvis.

Max almost yelped as he suddenly felt pulled back to the moment he had been craving since he had forced himself to separate from his partner just one day ago.

”I’m sorry Spite, my mind wandered a little” his voice was deeper in the morning than throughout the day.

Although Max was a German born citizen who was born and raised in the city of Berlin and even currently resided in the metropolis, he and his other both casually spoke English to one another rather than the language he had first learned. It was actually rather common for young Germans of his age to use English over the language of their own country; he never really cared to put much thought into it and although never stating it, knew he probably had a better grasp on the overcomplicated tongue than most Americans.

Max brought his hands up to his chest, lifting Spite’s wormlike body into the air and hovering the bizarrely textured goo just in front of his face.

“I could never keep you waiting-” he smiled, pressing his forehead against Spite’s own as the creature began to change in texture and shape.

The once continuously long body of the alien began to fold inward more and more, becoming denser yet also stickier. Max relaxed the grip of his hands knowing he was no longer holding on to Spite, rather Spite was holding on to him. The white and red material began to slink along both hands of his fully exposed body, covering each finger, first with an opaque layer of a glossy and almost latex Esq white before scattered yet still shifting veins of a familiar cherry red followed. The living fluid continued to travel up his forearms, then to his biceps, and finally to his shoulders where the two separate streams joined into one just over his sternum. Max couldn’t help but relax every muscle in his body, as if he had just been chemically sedated but was still fully in control. By this point there was no denying the sexual gratification that silently came along with the process. Max felt his cock twitch and throb with excitement as his lover and husband crawled his way across every inch of his naked body. His abdominal muscles flexed and relaxed rhythmically beneath the flat skin of his belly as the alien pulled itself down to his waistline and around his axillaries. The stream connected at his spine with a peculiar tightness that he could only imagine was comparable to a true vacuum seal. The grip of the fine line of living fluid that worked its way downwards slowed to a crawl, as if it wanted to relish a victory it felt it had earned. Max exhaled deeply, the slightest hint of a wine slipping out as he felt his cock be tugged backwards before slowly being enveloped by a warm but slick texture that was clearly different than the others on his newly forming body. The living tissue pulled its way across his ass cheeks with the same care and love as it had done just in front before sliding right between his legs and pulling its way around and over his balls until the anterior and exterior portions of his ‘suit’ grasped one another, sealing the area with an aggressive hug. Max felt his knees wobble as his cock pressed against his thigh, the forming suit moved downwards as it massaged over the skin. He pressed his knees together and finally let out a loud wine he had been forcing into silence since the process had begun. As if waiting for the opening, the goo pulled its way fully up his sternum, neck, and finally into his mouth as he began to cry out from the full body rhythmic massage his partner had chosen to reward him with. His entire body pulsed, both from the entirety of the experience and the unabashed encouragement Spite silently provided.

Max huffed, slightly out of breath as he looked down at his body. He was still technically naked, but the primarily white skin with minor randomized red striations had now covered every inch of his body. He looked into the mirror just as he had done just moments before and reveled in the new body before him; Max knew he was underneath, he was inside a living suit but a suit nonetheless _he reminded himself aggressively_. Max stared into the mirror. Spite looked back.

The pair raised their hand to the lenses that served as Max’s new eyes, bringing every minute object even down to the dust particles in the air into great detail. Their entire forearm from the very tips of their talon like fingers to just barely below the elbow writhed with the same bright and inviting crimson of their eye lenses before splitting off into various shifting line like extensions like the rest of their body. The living tissue generally had a sort of fixed pattern to it; a general collection of red followed the contour of Spite’s neck and collar bones down to their sternum before terminating roughly at the bottom of the xiphoid. Additional accentuations hugged the curvature of their pelvis and crossed the axillary to their back where it would collect vaguely along the spinal column. Each eye lens had a thin red line vertically through the center, one end disappearing behind their skull and the other traveling downwards to their neck like the rest. Max admired his husbands body; he was beneath it all but he was no longer looking at himself. Each of them could exert control over the meatsuit but through different ways; since Max and Spite forced themselves from achieving a more complete bond, they were essentially still two separate biological entities. Spite was nothing more than an exoskeleton which meant than any motion Spite chose to perform using Max’s body had to be done in a manner similar to a puppeteer with very complicated strings. With the exception of emergencies, Spite had come to trust Max and Max had come to trust Spite enough for the pair to understand that beneath the flexible and incredible alien skin was still Max’s body. Max holds full control with the exception of extreme danger or a formal exchange of control to Spite.

Max tilted his neck to the side with a sound akin to strained leather, smiling widely with his partner’s fixed and permanently visible ‘outer’ teeth. Max ran a hand against his now slick bald head, sensing the tissue around his face fold in on itself and retreat until just below his neckline. Max reached for the bathroom door handle, ready to go work on his most recent commission for a few hours before he and Spite would go out for the night; ‘Normal’ couples considered movies and dinner to be date night, he and Spite had a different idea. The two would regularly traverse the Berlin streets, clinging in the late night to the skyscrapers of downtown in hopes of finding some sort of excuse for prey. The majority of nights the makeshift patrols amounted to nothing except various almost exhibitionist sexual encounters across dozens of rooftops and skyscraper windows. Spite could _sense_ Max’s mind wander to the poor window washers and their inevitable confusion at the various mysterious stains across the city. Max leaned in to the door, bringing himself closer to the mirror he had been staring at for what seemed like hours but had actually been no longer and two minutes at most. He froze, his fully exposed face sending a cold chill down his body causing Spite to instantly tighten across his chest in a makeshift but comforting hug.

Max’s previously green irises were now a deep red, the same deep red as his husband’s body. He slowly raised his lips in a nervous terror. The barest tip of a rather long canine revealed itself before finally showing the reality of the rest of his altered teeth. He ran his tongue along the protrusions, almost all of his teeth appeared normal but both his upper and lower canines appeared sharper and more prominent than usual, yet also noticeably whiter. He prodded one with a finger, sensing the pressure of the test before exhaling in minor relief. The barest hint of the subtly different white teeth of his own natural ones and the intruders along with a wordless but knowing mental reassurance from his partner told him that the ‘new’ teeth were nothing more than essentially caps over his own. Max shook his head at the irrational thought of his body having any real radical physical changes, especially after an unbonding ‘detox’.

Max walked quickly into the office room just across from the bathroom, sliding his alien feet across the carpeted floor and practically throwing himself into the worn but comfortable black artificial leather office chair that was now stuck at its lowest setting due to years of use. Max stared at the large canvas before him, partial linework had already been completed just the day before; a partial sketch and a detailed list of descriptors sat just next to his favorite pencil. His office was rather small to begin with, it had likely been a rather large closet that had been renovated prior to his moving in; its walls were partially adorned with both completed drawings and paintings ranging from traditional methods of acrylics or graphite to glossy printed digital drawings. Max had learned he preferred to start most of his commission works on paper first before moving to digital, he felt there was a consistent neutrality in the graphite and papers that couldn’t be found in computers due to how different colors and saturations could appear on various monitors. Max absentmindedly rubbed his left hand up and down his left thigh, ‘petting’ his other in a comforting manner.

Max looked down at the drawing, finally taking in his progress; he stared at its entirety and for a moment he felt as if his vision had blurred. He squinted his enhanced eyes, forcing the drawing into focus with minor confusion at the inexplicable situation before him. It was as if he was staring at his own artwork but his brain, and his other’s brain, refused to process the image into visual information. Max stood up quickly flicking on the desk lamp besides him that he hadn’t needed, his current eyesight more than capable of functioning in low light environments. He lifted the lamp and allowed the lineart before him to bask in its luminescence. He grunted and squinted even harder as he began to hear a ringing in his ears akin to an aggressive form of tinnitus. He spoke no words but felt a sort of silent victory as the ringing in his ears grew into an almost unbearable sonorous wine but his eyes finally began to process an image he felt he had been able to see just the day before but now had no memory of its content.

The lineart before him was actually more than simply lineart; the artwork was much further along than his brain had told him just moments ago. A humanoid man had been drawn at a three quarters angle towards the viewer; he appeared to be wearing a suit of some kind that while simplistic, still felt as if it was iconic in some way. Various small jagged lines that he felt were some form of lightning perhaps seemed to travel up and across the man’s suit and off into the distance behind him as he ran towards whoever chose to view the piece. Max felt the incredible ringing reach new heights he had never thought it could as his head began to pound; he let out a grunt without even meaning to as he dropped to one knee, putting his face just inches away from the drawing. Max felt a wetness flow from his nostril, his vision doubled momentarily from the incredible pain of the ringing and accompanying headache and a clean droplet of his own blood plopped just over the man in the drawing. Max watched as the red fluid spread outwards, stopping at the border of the man’s body. Max took one more look at the scarlet red running man and all of the intense power the electricity surrounding him exuded before slamming his eyes closed and clutching his head with both hands as hard as he could while screaming in agony.

“ _ **Ah Ah Ah. Not Yet Little One.**_ ”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

“WHAT. WHATS WRONG MAXI WHATS WRONG?” the familiar and warm voice of his spouse called out in worry. Behind all of Spite’s flirtatious playfulness and the incredible intelligence he chose to disguise with humor and faux stupidity was the man Max had fallen in love with, the romantic and loving alien goo that had wormed his way into Max’s life.

”It was just a nightmare Maxi, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

Max opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. He could feel his heart pumping in fear, his fight or flight reaction now being forcibly reduced by Spite’s silent biological meddling.

”I. wh- I.” Max stumbled across his words as he suddenly realized he was in fact just in his bedroom.

Everything appeared to be normal as usual, nothing out of place. He shook his head to himself as his second skin tightened in a full body skintight hug.

“I… I don’t remember falling asleep with you… I thought. I thought we separated last night- uhhh” Max mumbled out both to himself and to his husband.

He looked over to the nightstand, no wedding ring and his phone sat plugged into its charger. He shook his head once more and grabbed the black rectangle before unplugging it. He pressed his red finger to the power button and watched as a blue logo he didn’t quite recognize flashed across the screen just a second before the home screen popped up. The phone was just barely charged, maybe ten percent at most. Max stared at the battery percentage as it moved to eleven. He stared and stared before shaking his head.

“Nope. no-” His phone suddenly buzzed to life with dozens of notifications, news bulletins, and a dozen texts from his parents and close friends.

Max froze for a moment, unsure which notification to address first; the small phone emanated such incredible importance at the moment. Max looked up and around the room once more, he wasn’t looking for anything so much as trying to process the events that had just occurred. The lights of his room were off, the blind slats were closed, the closet door was… closed. His heart skipped a beat as he dropped his phone to the nightstand, ignoring its new dinging as more notifications poured in. Max shuffled his monstrous red feet across his flooring towards the closet door. He could sense Spite shift uncomfortably as he sensed Max’s distress.

“Hey, Maxi?” Spite asked out nervously as he tightened across his entire body.

Max did not answer, he was not ignoring Spite but he felt hyper-focused in a bizarre combination of seemingly unwarranted distress and confusion at something he felt was incredibly out of place but also so negligible it should mean nothing. Max extended his hand, grasping the handle of the door with his bright red talons. He turned the handle and opened the door revealing nothing more than the normal closet and dozens of clothes he didn’t really use all that much. Max couldn’t help but step inside, he knew he had to look around or the sensation would not leave. The room wasn’t particularly large, both walls tightly packed with hanging shirts, pants, and jackets for the various seasons of the year. Max leaned his head behind the closet door, closing it all the way until it clicked and left him inside the clothing filled room. He stood in silence for almost a full minute as he sensed Spite hold his tongue, not wanting to break Max’s concentration and although not saying it outright, clearly feeling a semblance of anxiety. Max’s brain finally told him he was being irrational, nothing happened and everything was fine. He leaned in and clutched the handle before freezing, a full body cold sweat accompanying a primal fear he had never encountered in his twenty three years of life. A series of incredibly small scratches on the white paint of the wooden door that would have been considered gibberish at best to even the most observant of humans sat just at eye level at the very edge of the doorframe. Max swallowed nervously as he knew that his human eyes wouldn’t have thought anything of the lines, but his enhanced sight revealed what they truly were.

In the smallest of scrapes one can imagine, carved into the door were the words-  
’I’m Tired Of Waiting Maxi.’  
The penmanship was immaculate, almost as if it had been _typed_ there. Max pushed against the door, no longer wishing to be in the place he stood; the very air tasted dry and felt as if it were filled with some sort of twisted superiority. The door swung open and Max stumbled out into the next room.

He was no longer in his bedroom, he didn’t know where he was but something sinister had just happened. Max sweated nervously below his second skin as he sensed Spite take in their new surroundings with awe and the barest hint of fear. It appeared to be an office building of some sort; dozens of cubicles taking up every available square inch with a massive glass wall on the far side proudly displaying the city skyline.

Max pivoted all of his weight on his heel as he turned around as fast as he could. The door he had just stepped through… his closet. It was nothing more than a regular office supply closet that had been messily abandoned. Max felt his anxiety spike as he began to rush towards the glass wall. Each and every cubicle appeared empty, some with their computers still on but all abandoned in a hurry with various scattered papers and materials. Max approached the massive window and cupped his hands around the glass while staring outside.

To use the word chaos would not do the situation before him justice. There was nothing short of anarchy as hundreds of people ran in the streets, the roads packed with crashed cars and fallen debris. In the most confusing and inexplicable thing Max had ever seen, there were several buildings that appeared to have been phased into one another, he could not believe his eyes and even Spite did not have a witty statement.

“If Eli could see this…” Max muttered quietly in a peculiarly accent-less English.

“Who is Eli?” Spite asked is confusion, knowing that everyone Max knew was someone Spite knew too.

“Huh? who?” Max returned with his noticeable but negligible German accent.

They both paused.

“Wait wha-” Max and Spite spoke in unison before being interrupted by a rather intense concussive blast outside.

They stared back out the window once more; just down in the street between the building they stood in now and the peculiar one at the end of the block was a rather normal looking man in a deep blue skintight suit. It was hard for them to make out the details at that distance, even with Spite’s eyes but the man appeared to be walking backwards down the street; he had appeared from behind the building on the right and began to disappear behind the building on the left. Less than three seconds later Max and Spite both flinched as an intense roar shook the window they leaned against; the source was more human than animalistic but seemed nothing short of terrifyingly powerful. A massive red cone of energy erupted from behind the building on the left at the end of the block where the man in blue had travelled just as two colossal boulders of concrete and rebar soared through the air towards that direction. The first one caught the blast of reddish energy and practically atomized from the immense force. Almost instantaneously a second beam appeared to begin travelling towards the second boulder but disappeared just as fast as it had started. Whatever had thrown the boulders had hit their target. Another roar erupted, this time growing further away rather than closer. Max exhaled in relief, but felt a sense of obligation to find the man and see if he was okay… or even alive.

“Cmon we don’t owe them anything.” Spite said with a playful confidence, but already knew he was wrong.

Max silently reassured his partner as Spite’s face grew over Max’s own until their full and incredible glory stood in the mundane office building. Max extended closed his hand into a fist, digging his talons into his palm with a drive he had never really felt before. He felt important, he felt like he mattered, he felt like a hero. He drove his fist with an incredible enhanced strength directly into the massive wall of weather proofed glass; it exploded outwards with the telltale sound of a shattered windowpane.

An incredibly powerful torrent of wind forced its way through the newly formed hole. The various office supplies and papers floated through the air chaotically from the sudden change in air pressure. Max stepped forward until his clawed toes hovered over the edge of the building, his entire body supported by nothing more than the traction of his heels. He passively brushed a few fragments of glass over the edge and into the street below as he exhaled in mental preparation at what he was planning to do next.

“We can do this. Let’s go.” Max told himself with a slowly building confidence only to be positively acknowledged by Spite’s slow covering of his face; Max now fully hidden behind Spite’s full presentation.

Max inhaled and exhaled quickly once more while pumping his arms up and down.  
_Now or never_. He thought aggressively as he back stepped a few meters. Max sprinted forward at a speed comparable to even the most seasoned of human athletes before throwing himself into the air. He felt an instant connection with the intense air currents of being so high in the sky but knew that they wouldn’t affect his trajectory enough to truly matter. His forward arc began to slow and gravity reared its inevitable head as they began to fall faster and faster. After a few years of practice Max and Spite had come to learn some limits they considered to be useful… such as how to redirect their momentum for a landing. They only needed to travel to the end of the street, that was where the man had disappeared to. Max looked down at the gravel covered rooftop of the building his leap had taken him to and without much effort tucked his knees inwards while also leaning into a forward roll just as his feet connected. In one fluid motion Max completed his roll and extended his legs with as much strength as he could muster, launching himself forwards and upwards; He quickly soared alongside another skyscraper and with the ease and confidence of someone who had performed such a feat so many time before he extended the flat portion of his fingertips to the quickly passing glass while also connecting his legs at the same quarter angle in a run. He angled his run downwards, traveling quickly towards the upcoming corner of the structure. He pulled his fingers from the glass, removing his support and causing his body to begin to shift perpendicularly to the windows before finally throwing himself forward one last time. The street approached quickly as he fell, or rather dived, and with the same motion as before tucked into a roll just as he connected to the pavement in an effort to redirect his momentum externally rather than internally; Spite may be able to protect his fragile human body from a lot of intrusions but a couple hundred meter fall would be pushing it.

Max completed his roll in a crouch, finally standing up and brushing some of the gravel that had stuck to him off. The street itself appeared mostly empty up close, cars scattered and damaged just as he had seen during his survey; some vehicles had crashed into one another, some totaled under piles of debris, and some with what appeared to be massive hand imprints of some kind. Max stared at the clearly identifiable palmprint on the driver’s side door of a partially wrecked pickup truck before shaking his head and reminding himself of the reason he was here in the first place. He turned around just to take in all of what was happening around him, the sheer chaos and confusion but also incredibly concerning lack of screams. The city was not silent by any means, explosions along with the sound of crumbling concrete and car horns was more than enough to stop that from being the case; but the longer Max listened through Spite’s ears, the more he realized there were no cries for help. He looked up at the building he had come from, the gigantic hole hundreds of meters in the air that had been created just a minute prior accompanied by the occasional handful of flying papers finally escaping into the sky. Max tilted his head in absolute bewilderment; He did not recall ever having heard of a company called ‘Roxxon’, yet at the same time felt the name buzz in the back of his head. The colossal skyscraper appeared to vibrate for a moment before settling quietly. The lowest hum of tinnitus teased in his left ear before he forced himself out of the daze; he turned around ready to find the blue man, hopefully not accompanied by whatever had thrown such massive objects. He sprinted the remaining quarter of a block before pivoting into a left turn.

Max didn’t have to travel more than an inch after turning the corner before seeing what he was looking for. A man sat crumpled against a wall just out front of what was likely a small residence of some kind. The majority of his body was obscured by a large amounts of rubble, both a primary chunk of concrete and rebar the size of a small car and dozens of other various sized pieces of brick and concrete from the building he had connected with. Max shooed the thought of the man’s death out of his mind while rushing to him with the intention of helping. Max pulled brick after brick off of the collapsed body before leaning his shoulder against the main source of weight. He pushed with a groan, it was clear through Spite’s silence that he was concentrating on Max’s safety should something unexpected occur; wearing a symbiote being somewhat the equivalent of full coverage ‘vision’. The boulder refused to move and although Max knew he could probably move it with enough effort he needed to understand who he was even trying to help, or more importantly if he could answer even a single question. Max quickly scanned what was visible of the man’s uniform. The entirety of it appeared to be a deep blue, somewhere just a little brighter than navy. He was unsure of its material but judging by its apparent texture and thickness it was likely fire retardant at minimum if not even armored to a degree. His right arm was visible, the outfit was mostly the same blue down to the forearm where a wrist protection or adornment of some kind hugged the space between his wrist and elbow. The material differed from the more cloth like aspects of the torso, rather it was a somewhat brushed gold of some kind with a few rings along its length. A portion of his left shoulder was beneath the debris but a bright red disc of some kind, almost a badge even, sat just above his heart. A large black ‘X’ had been printed across it and essentially confirmed that this must be some kind of uniform. The man’s uniform continued to the top of his head, leaving an untouched gap from the bridge of his nose to his cheekbones and upper neck but had been torn open enough to reveal patches of thick and slightly spiky short black hair. The only other thing to really stand out to Max was the peculiar visor across his eyes. It appeared to be a different metal than the wrist gauntlets, more of a reflective titanium perhaps. Max slowly extended a finger and cautiously tapped the thin horizontal red lens with the very tip of his talon.

“uh-” he mumbled nervously.  
”Achem” he cleared his throat and began again.  
”Are you okay sir?” Max asked, his oh so human voice and nervous body language contrasting so heavily against the alien skinsuit he wore.

There was no response, the man did not even stir as Max continued to tap the visor. He couldn’t smell any blood and did not see any obvious signs of injury with the exception of the stupidly large rock pinning the ‘X’ man down. Max felt his ears twitch at a somewhat distant noise that seemed to be human. He looked over his shoulder but saw nothing; Max quickly stood up and scanned the street, worried that whatever had hurt the man may have returned.

“..evil..doer..” the distance voice seemed to call out. Max knew there was more to the incredibly quiet statement but could barely even make out that much.

Max looked upwards to the very top of the building before him. Dozens of floors up, on the very rooftop of the building appeared to be some sort of humanoid figure pointing in Max’s general direction along with various other poses. He appeared to be making some sort of speech, a monologue even. Max rubbed his temples at the absurdity as he tried to make out any visible detail on the man; due to how high up the man was along with the fact that the sun’s light appeared to be behind him, obscuring any real chance at a clear view Max only managed to acquire a few details. He was unsure if the man wore a uniform of some kind like the ‘X’ man behind him but the unique red, black, and white colors led him to believe that was the case. Max quickly scanned the distance between him and the building on the other end of the street, and how long it would take for him to scale to the top. _Bamf_. Max looked back to where the man had been standing and the source of the bizarre sound, only catching a momentary wisp of black smoke.

“-stand down you twisted agent of Mephistopheles or I vill slay you vhere you stand” The man spoke with a sort of grandiose confidence as he twirled a rapier of some kind in one hand while tossing another into the air from his… tail.

Max stared as the man held him at dual swordpoint. The man appeared to be incredibly fit, his skintight red uniform accenting each of his abdominal muscles before traveling down between his legs. Max felt himself begin to sweat in that moment, both he and Spite couldn’t help but share the same thoughts as they really took in the Man’s full appearance. The entirety of the outfit from his shins to his thighs and then up the axillaries and to his elbows was a thin black almost spandex like material, not even in the same class of practicality as the red visored man. Both his peculiarly three fingered hands and three toed feet were covered with a secondary pair of white gloves or boots with a red trim separating the black undersuit from the rest. The center of his outfit was a large red ‘V’ shape that met between his legs along with two somewhat noticeable shoulder pads. Max gulped and sensed Spite tighten around him, almost in a quiver as he finally registered the rest of the man’s appearance. His skin was a deep and tender blue but was only noticeable through his entirely uncovered face and the partially hidden appendage with a triangular tip that could only be a tail of some kind behind his leg. Max stared into his eyes as the man continued to point the sword and ramble words that Max chose not to hear. He felt lost in the man’s subtlety glowing opaque golden yellow eyes. Max stared at his blue lips and pearly white fanged teeth as the man’s face slowly shifted into that of someone who appeared to be entirely confused or even frustrated.

“Have you listened to a vurd I have said.” The azure demon creature spat out in an accent that caused Max to almost feel offended, as if the man had been speaking in an exaggerated and noticeably fake German accent of some kind. He sighed and his body language noticeably deflated.  
”I said I am ze incredible Nightcrawler and I am here to stop you for hurting my friend. I demand you stand down you twisted agent of Mephistopheles or I vill slay you vhere you stand.” The words slid out faster than before as if he had been reading from a grocery list.

“Oh I think you misun-” Max began, the two accents contrasting like night and day.

Max felt Spite grasp control over his legs, sending a barrage of nerve firings as he puppeted his lover’s body out of danger. Nightcrawler had thrown his swords down in an effort to slice Max into pieces.

“Hey honey?” Spite’s voice echoed in Max’s head just as another two consecutive _bamfs_ forced another dodging roll from the pair.  
”Do you think I should take this one?” Spite cooed into Max’s ears as he couldn’t help but tighten around Max’s crotch.  
”I know you like him, I promise not to hurt him too badly… I’d like to play with him too.” Spite followed up with as Max’s heart continued to beat through his chest.

“Yes, yesyesyes now go do it” Max shot out knowing that he had never really been in a fight. Whatever this Nightcrawler was, it was nothing like the normal under equipped and unsuspecting idiots back home trying to do nothing more than rob a pathetic gas station.

With the verbal consent Max relaxed his muscles and allowed Spite to drive him, his entire body essentially shifting from a soccer mom in a station wagon to a formula one racer on a speedway.

“I think I need to try something new, I’m sorry Maxi but this might hurt a little” Spite purred to his husband with love as he forced their body into a series of backflips, creating just enough distance to do what he wanted.

Max silently dredged through the growing discomfort that began at his wrists and moved all the way to just below his elbows. He felt Spite’s skin tightening around the muscles, as if hundreds of tiny little finger were pushing their way into the flesh and shifting the tissue to each side. The sensation continued in his shins, from just above his ankle to roughly two thirds of the way up his calves. There was a more familiar sensation that even teetered on erotic at the very bottom of his spine just above his ass as a tail of his own began to form. The pair hunched forward, spreading their weight more evenly as Max caught a glimpse of his forearms just as Spite moved their eyes past the limb. His forearms appeared to be nothing more than bone now; without words he immediately understood what had happened. The discomfort dulled to nothingness just as fast as it had appeared. Max understood that due to their constant separation, Spite was essentially nothing more than a secondary skin when worn that could affect basic functions in his biology through nervous system stimulation or transdermal applications of generated chemicals. What Spite had so cleverly done was essentially remove the microsecond delays of his own signals being sent and received through Max’s body by forcing himself physically into Max’s arms and legs. The pair were still bonded at the same superficial level but Spite now had a more complete and absolute control over Max’s movements. Max smiled beneath Spite’s face as he relinquished and resistance he had even accidentally been applying against his partner’s control.

_BAMF_

Spite flinched as Nightcrawler disappeared and a puff of black smoke replaced him. _BAMF_ the change in air pressure popped just overhead as Spite threw himself into a backflip, using his tail as a fulcrum while extending a leg out. His foot connected with Nightcrawlers own as they kicked off of one another. _bamf- BAMF_ the sounds popped once more. Spite threw his left arm up and leaned his torso back as the tip of one of the swords slid in front of him and through the gap between Spite’s radius and ulna. Before Nightcrawler could pull his weapon back Spite placed his right hand over his left wrist and pushed his arms forward. The blade bent and then snapped from the perpendicular force as Spite laughed mockingly. He kicked the broken metal shard off to the side as Nightcrawler confusedly looked at his significantly shorted sword before disposing of it and choosing to focus on the one he had left.

“You are right, We are an agent of Mephistoflus… Mephistofnees… Meffy!” Spite danced in around his target. Max desperately wanted Spite to be serious but also knew that everything he did, he did for a reason.  
”We used our incredible strength to toss that boulder on to mister X man!” Spite drooled, streams of saliva glistening against his already glossy body.

Spite shot forwards and watched as Nightcrawler braced in defense. He swiped the sword forwards, his expert form seemingly being replaced with a more panicked flinch of a movement and Spite dropped into a slide zooming right between Nightcrawlers legs and back up behind him.

“Mm We love the smell of brimstone in the morni-” Spite said confidently before being taken completely off his feet.

Nightcrawler had slid his prehensile tail behind Spite’s leg and tugged, knocking him on to his rear. Spite laid on his back with his tail between his legs, wagging in an inviting manner.

“Oh, not going to buy Us lunch first? It doesn’t matter, We’re already married” He said with a laugh and playful kiss.

Nightcrawler’s eyes widened at such a forward suggestion; he knew what it was like to be judged solely through appearance and could only assume that such brazen confidence was a barrier to keep others out.  
”Vhat is wrong with you demon spawn, I have never seen a creature such as you before. Are you perhaps a mutant of somekind?” _Bamf_ \- The cloud appeared where he had been standing.

 _BAMF_ \- Spite rolled over to his side as a _clang_ of metal against pavement rang out. Spite spun around, now staring directly at Nightcrawler as he extended a leg out in a graceful kick. The three toed foot connected to Spite’s sternum and pushed him half a meter back but didn’t even so much as startle him.

“Playing hard to get aren’t you cutey? I want to know how you taste, all that blue tells me it might be _fruityyy_ ” Spite said in a singsong voice.

Spite leaned forward as if he were about to break into a run but didn’t actually move. _BAMF_ -  
”gotcha now my little lollipop” he said with an extra emphasis on the ‘p’.

_BAMF-_

Spite didn’t even look as he somersaulted backwards just as he had earlier, this time connecting with Nightcrawler and grasping his clothes tightly.  
”Oh We sure hope this doesn’t rrrrip” Spite said with a purr as he scuttled around Nightcrawlers body, traveling between his legs and planting his claws into the man’s back so that his head rested just over his left shoulder.

“ _Scheisse_ ” Nightcrawler grunted as the bizarre red and white humanoid scuttled along his body.

Spite leaned inwards and opened his mouth, the globs of his saliva soaking into his opponent’s outfit.  
_BAMF-  
_Spite felt his stomach drop as he lost all sense of orientation. The familiar sensation of his stomach pushing its way upwards along with a sudden rush of wind told him they were falling.

“Begone nightmare!” Nightcrawler hollered dramatically as he tossed his sword away and reached over his shoulders, grasping Spite and pulling him over.

Spite knew there was not much he could do at the moment, no ground to move on meant his speed was useless. Nightcrawler tossed him forwards and Spite felt his ears pop- _BAMF_. Spite looked down at the quickly approaching ground.  
”oh that’s just not fair”

Spite tensed every inch of his cellular structure, replacing as many external cells with a denser and more osseous like tissue as fast as he could. The asphalt shattered as the white and red creature smashed into the ground. Spite held his tension a few moments longer before relaxing once more, his newly formed but partially shattered bone like exoskeleton quickly dissolving back into their original textures; Klyntar biology tried its best to conserve and recycle as much mass as possible.

“oughhh” Spite coughed into the cracked road as he planted his hands downwards and finally lifted himself to a standing position.

Max momentarily felt a breeze which quickly disappeared. Spite looked over his shoulder and saw the tail they had formed had severed itself and the tissue had already begun to decay. Spite rubbed his head tenderly as he looked at the blue man before him.

“Alright alright you win, We give up. This was fun, thank you for the exercise… do you have an icepack or something. Maybe a sandwich” Spite’s scratchy accented voice had dropped the playful tone in favor of a more tired one.

Nightcrawler’s body language shifted from that of superiority to something more of confusion, he still appeared defensive but not anywhere to the same degree.

“So you are not… a demon? You’re not the source of this chaos or the one who hurt my friend?” The blue man motioned to the still unconscious man with the visor.

“No no, none of that. In all honesty, We don’t even know how We got here because this sure as hell isn’t Berlin.” Spite rubbed his head once more, casually looking around the street at the yellow-orange license plates the majority of vehicles had that said ‘New York’.

“Oh, you are also from Germany!” Kurt said with a growing smile as he slowly but warmly offered a hand towards Spite.

“Well, that’s sort of complicated. _I’m_ not from around here at all, but _We_ are from Berlin, yes” Spite motioned vaguely with his hands in a direction that was supposed to signify the direction of his home country.  
”We just saw that guy-” Spite pointed to the crumpled ragdoll of a man.  
”-get hit with a rather large rock or something.”

Nightcrawler quickly shifted his attention to the man and then back to Spite. He looked him up and down once more, likely examining his appearance.  
”So are you a mutant like me, or… vell, vhat are you?” Kurt asked plainly as he slowly prodded a finger into Spite’s ‘skin’; the sleek goo depressed inwards a small bit while also flowing around the gloved finger.

“Sexy as hell that’s what!” Spite shot back with bravado just as he swayed his hip to the side and smacked his ass with an additionally suggestive purr and kiss.

Kurt recoiled mildly, mostly in surprise, but visibly lingered on Spite’s figure for just long enough to question his feelings.

“No, no… We’re actually jus-” Spite’s explanation was quickly interrupted with he unfortunately familiar roar from earlier.

The volume alone caused Spite to wriggle along Max’s skin in discomfort. He looked up towards the opposite direction of the street they stood on, the same direction that whatever had thrown the boulder in the first place had disappeared to. Another roar that was noticeably more human, but still held an undertone of power echoed in the sky just after the first, both growing closer at a threatening rate. Spite watched as a building just a few hundred meters away erupted in a cloud of dust as something burst through it at an incredible speed. The black ball that appeared to be the size of a medium sized truck disappeared out of view just as quickly as it had appeared. Seconds later a gargantuan deep green nightmarish monster pulled its way through the hole the black ball had shot through. Spite couldn’t quite make out what it was saying, but it was talking to someone. The creature waded through the cars in the road with the same amount of effort one would need in shin deep water. Dozens of car alarms began to ring and distort as the monster with visibly little patience began to toss the cars in various directions like a child with their toys. The monster moved maybe halfway across the street before stopping midsentence as it turned its head in Spite’s direction.

“ **YOU.** ” The creature called out, pointing its finger in their general direction.

Spite felt his stomach drop in a fear he had never really felt. Spite backstepped a little as the monster changed its direction and began to walk towards Spite. As it approached he couldn’t help but feel frozen; although he did acquire a clearer look than before. Whatever it was, it was almost ten feet tall and had muscles large enough to make a tank wet itself. Its skin a mostly even but deep green akin to seaweed or clover. The monster’s musculature was so intense that its skin was partially splitting along its pectorals and various other areas. Beneath the primary layer of green was a secondary of mildly darker green with a visually armored texture, as if the muscle fiber was so dense it had become its own form of defense. All ten fingers and toes had a yellowed ivory like nail completed with a point. The monster wore some sort of almost perfectly fitting shorts; simple and black in color with a bright yellow stripe from the waist to the leg on both sides. A yellow hexagon logo of the same kind had been cleanly printed on the custom clothing just over the left thigh. The monster’s face was almost human in appearance, yet horribly distorted. It held a strong grimace of locked flat teeth, gritting against eachother in anger and determination. It had an incredibly pronounced and ridged brow that had seemingly been permanently fixed in a position that declared rage and hatred. The entirety of its eyes were literally emanating a powerful radioactive green.

“ **YOU!** ” The monster called out once more as it bent slightly to the side, scooping its hand along the ground until a large boulder of asphalt and dirt had formed.

Spite continued to step to the side as the monster closed the distance, now only a few dozen meters away at best. It shifted the ball into its opposing hand before moving into a pitch. The collection of materials rocketed through the air with a whistle. Spite mentally calculated the trajectory and within less than a single second had already begun to dive towards Nightcrawler’s position just two or three meters away.

“KURT NOO!!” Both Spite’s and Max’s voices overlapped as their entire action was knowingly in vain.

 _Bamf_. The boulder flew through the newly formed cloud of smoke just as another _bamf_ popped just a few more meters away. Spite turned towards where the blue man had landed, just next to the visor man in a comforting crouch; as if he were ready to sacrifice his life to protect the man.

”How did We know his name…” Max and Spite thought in unison; a powerful headache threatening to force a black out just beginning to form alongside the growingly familiar ringing that somehow managed to permeate down to their very being.

“Eat Shit Blonsky.” a gruff yet weakened voice coughed out beside Kurt.

Max looked at the man in blue uniform as he raised a hand to a small circle on the side of the optic visor. The green giant visibly flinched at the threat.

“Ah, fuck it.” The gruff man spoke once more as his fingers shifted away from the round dial, instead grabbing the visor itself and lifting.

“Oh shi-” The monster brought his arms in front of him defensively just as a barrage of pure red concussive energy exploded into him.

Spite watched as the man’s eyes exerted a cone of energy so powerful that the very air around them began to smell of burning asphalt and and cooking flesh. The beam did itself did not seem to be raw heat energy, but the sheer friction it created was enough to set things alight. The beam stopped almost instantaneously as the man shut his eyes, the incredibly thin layer of skin preventing the catastrophe from continuing as he slid the visor back on. Spite turned back towards the ‘man’ who had been referred to as Blonsky. His once brightly green forearms were now more of a blackened pine. The skin had singed visibly and shook in strain, they were lowered slowly revealing an unfortunately sinister grin.

“Maybe next time Summers.” The monster cracked its neck to each side and began to step forward.

“ **Hey… Ugly…?** ” An incredibly deep voice with an intense gravely vibration to it shot the weak insult.

“Ready for round two” Blonsky said as he turned around and cracked his massive knuckles.

“ **Not exactly.** ” The voice said with obvious confidence.

Spite leaned to one side, finally seeing what was behind the giant green behemoth… a giant black behemoth. The massive and inky black creature was generally the same absurdly muscled body type as the green one, but a couple of feet shorter at maybe seven and a half. The entirety of its body was a clean and familiar living texture of sorts with only one arm differentiating itself from the rest of the being. Dozens and dozens of organized red tally marks had been carved or drawn into the monster, traveling all the way to the beginning of its pectoral before the groupings stopped. It smiled with a disgustingly toothy grin that put Spite’s own alien body to shame. A massive red tongue dangled out and dripped with saliva while the monsters familiarly shaped almost glowing red eyes narrowed.

“ **SEETHE! NOW!** ” The black monster called just as Blonsky broke into a charge.

Another massive muscled creature seemingly appeared out of nowhere from behind the black one. It moved at a significantly faster pace than the green giant who clearly needed to build momentum. Spite watched as the secondary monster that by now he had gathered were two other symbiotes of his own species worked in unison. The second black creature differentiated itself in a few incredibly noticeable ways. Its skin patterning was very much more organized, a series of reds and white forming some sort of collective shape across their torso along with what could only be described as almost bunny like protrusions at the top of their head. Their white eyes, violet tongue, and pearly white teeth betrayed a sense of joy as the air around them crackled with a powerful cosmic energy. The bunny eared symbiote leaped into the air with enough power to splinter the street they stood on; both of its legs faced forward as they performed an impromptu dropkick on the one known as Blonsky. The green monster grunted as its face was caved in from the force of the kick and its legs swept forward from the momentum. Just as the monster landed, the black tallied one crouched down and grabbed a leg with both hands; with a clear amount of effort from the weight of the giant they managed to begin a momentous circular swing. Blonsky began to groan in disorientation just as the black monster let go, sending Blonsky rocketing into the air. The one known as Seethe quickly walked beside the the accompanying symbiote as they both watched their green target soar hundreds of meters into the air and far from where they stood. Both brought their hands to their foreheads, mockingly whistling in unison as Spite mentally conjured the image akin to an American baseball game.

“ **HAHAHAHA, DID YOU SEE THE LOOK ON HIS FACE** ” The black and red one laughed heartily as it gave a clean hi-five to Seethe.

Spite just stared at what had just happened. He knew who none of these people were or how he got here and had no idea what was going to happen next. The two giants turned towards Spite, casting a massive shadow over him but smiling warmly.

“ **We think we should probably get to know eachother. Our name is Savage** ” The creature offered a hand the size of Spite’s torso politely.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any questions, would like to know more, or simply would like to discuss symbiotes\monsters further; please leave a comment!  
> You can find me on Twitter @MeisterMarrow or on Tumblr @MarrowMeister  
> I hope you look forward to the next entry! I have SO much planned.


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